Everything
by AllieBe
Summary: When she's gone, what have you got left to live for? H/Hr
1. Prologue

Everything

"It's ok," she said. Her whisper soft and comforting, reassuring the security that wrapped her hidden fear, her old, wise eyes trying hard to not show any hint of the desperation that threaten to escape her determined look. Everything was better than to show the girl more reasons for shearing tears. "Its ok." She repeated, placing a delicate hand on the dirty, red hair of the sobbing girl. "Its ok, dear."

Professor Trelawney kneeled down Ginny Weasley's trembling body, placing her own wrinkled hands on Ginny's young ones. The body beneath those hands was lifeless, stroked by one of the many curses that sprung all around the castle just minutes ago; the war that was so promised to happen so many years ago had finally came to life and had by its hand taken the life of so many alongside the hope for a different ending.

"NO!" Ginny's empty screaming rang in the ears of so many hopeless students, the once lively Great Hall filled with dead corpses of beloved friends. The body of the red haired failed her and she stumbled all over the body of her best friend, the tears falling down her stained face like a waterfall, droplets of water unstoppable dropping down on Hermione Granger's cold body. Professor Trelawney tried her hardest to keep her own tears ashore, her hands coming to comfort the crying Weasley.

* * *

Harry rushed to the castle, her heart racing at a rate that could be consider out of the ordinary, his hands increasingly sweating with the anxiety of seeing his friends alive. Hope had gotten through a little space in his racing heart, but fear was still winning. _They are ok. _He kept telling himself, as if the statement would grant him his friends' lives, but in truth the statement meant nothing.

As hard as he tried to keep his mind at ease, the treacherous thing kept bombing him with images of his best mate lying lifeless on the school grounds, his red hair spread across the grey looking grass that now covered the once beautiful green landscape. His sparkling blue eyes forever turned off replaced by a foggy coldness of grey instead…and Hermione…his Hermione.  
He imagined her delicate body lying somewhere around the cold, stone aisled of the huge castle. Alone in the emptiness if the night, the chilly wind of the night blowing her dead curls all around her unanimated face.

He stopped running for a split second to stop his mind from showing him the torturing images. He couldn't let that cloud his mind, he couldn't let fear travel through his system and paralyse him. He had to find his friends, and fast.

With determination set into his brain, he set up his fast pace once again until his emerald eyes hit a flash of orange. He stopped immediately, turning ever so slowly towards the orange flash.

A big smile adorned the handsome features of his face as his eyes met red hair.

"Ron!" he screamed excited, his smile growing bigger and bigger with an obvious hint of satisfaction.

The tall man before him turned, wand in hand, alert. However his alert mode was quickly swap away by the relieved smile that cross the guy's face.

The two friends embrace, happy that neither of them was hurt, but even that instant relief that both men felt washed away quickly when both noticed that Hermione was still not around.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, worry drowning his voice, anxiety covering his heart making it ache just enough to make Harry gasped for air.

Ron's blue eyes grew wide, fear written all over them. His face turned everywhere in search for her brown, untamed curls, but the search was useless for not a single sight of the girl was seen. "I thought she was with you, mate!" his voice cracked when his mind had started to betray him the way Harry's had too just minutes ago.  
Harry's clear orbs searched the place. _She can't be…cant'…no…_  
the space started to close in on Harry, and air suddenly seemed to be lacking. Harry was sinking into a big dark hole…"We have to find her!" Ron's desperate voice seemed to pull Harry out of his paranoia.

Harry nodded quickly before he ran straight to the Great Hall, Ron following closely behind. Something inside him told him he should go there, maybe she was there with the rest of the survivors, because she had to be alive. She was the survivor, definitely. Her knowledge of magic was too much for her to be death.

The Great Hall's doors opened loudly, letting way in for two breathless boys, anxious for sure.

Trelawney tore her eyes away from the corpse of Hermione and the crying Ginny to see who was the one who had open the door. Fear had clustered blue orbs for she knew the death eaters wouldn't give them much time, but a wave of peace leaped through her soul at the sight of Harry and Ron.  
Peace was not long before she realised what was about to happen. Not because she knew of divination or anything, it would take a complete idiot to not foresee the unstoppable.

She saw as Harry walked among the sobbing students that mourned for the lost lives of so many. The Great Hall was entirely covered in corpses and weeps, never in his life had Harry ever witnessed so many misery and sadness stuffed in one place, he felt depressed to the core. When did he let it go out of control? It was his responsibility to defeat Voldemort, his battle to fight.

"NOOO!" the high screaming of Ron broke him out of the trance he had gotten into.

Ron moved too fast for his brain to record what was happening, Ron's father was already holding his son as Ron's screaming just got louder and more painful. He wanted to know what had happened, but something wouldn't let him move. Something in the loud cries of his best friend made his nightmare come true…_It's true…_

In a split of a second, Harry saw everything moving in slow motion:  
Ron was on his feet, his face was bright red with anger and pain, his eyes watered but he still shed no tears. Arthur Weasley held his son as he held his own tears from falling. Trelawney stared blankly at the scene as if she was unable to move just as he was unable to move, too.

But he eventually did, his steps were unsure and he felt his knees grow week as the horrifying scene finally stroke his emerald eyes.

And then. Just in that moment, everything around Harry stopped. The world stopped…Hermione Granger was dead.

**-AllieBe**


	2. Bayberry scent

The sound appeared to have left his aching ears, and something inside him appeared to have been broken, like a fine glass crashing loudly against a perfectly built wall. His throat went dry, and air seemed to be entirely gone…he couldn't breath.

The shock of realisation hit him just as hard as the sudden minimisation of the big room around him, blurry faces surrounded him but for him they started to slowly fade away. It was a matter of seconds before he found himself alone. There was no one except for the cold body of his long lost friend.

His knees finally gave in, and he fell into the hard, stoned ground. His eyes started to water with angry tears that hazarded to fall any minute now.

He was in love for Merlin's sake. He had been in love with his best friend all along. Why was he coming to terms with it just now? Why? Why when she was dead?

Harry's fist came into contact with the hard floor, over and over again. Curious, and scared eyes rested on him but he no longer cared about showing hope where there was clearly none. He was human and he had the goddamn right to feel pain, desperation, something he had promised himself to not show for the sake of his friends…specially Hermione. But what of it now? Hermione was gone. Dead.

And he screamed. Screamed until his very own lungs were emptied out of oxygen, until his vocal chords were ripped out. He screamed.

A tear dropped, followed by another until the Potter boy came down to the floor completely, broken and exhausted. Ron followed suit, and soon the two friends gave way into their agony through a series of empty screams and soulless tears.

The crowd that had gathered around to see were speechless. Never had they seen neither Harry nor Ron that hurt, never had they ever seen neither of them shed tears in such a manner. Never.

The commotion was not going to last long, but no one had the guts to stop them from screaming, crying and senselessly hugging Hermione's dead body close to them, no one except for Arthur Weasley, who managed to tear Ron apart from Hermione's corpse, but Harry was another story. He wouldn't let anyone touch him or even come near him. He held Hermione's unanimated body tightly against him, painfully shedding tears over his lost love.

_It was the ninth time Harry was intentionally woken up by one of the many pranks the Weasley twins played on him. It had bothered him at first, but by then he had gotten used to it, after all the twins meant no harm but they definitely enjoyed the surprised expression on his face. It was rewarding during the morning. _

"_Why, Hello Harry, my friend. I am most please to see you're awake at such an early hour." Fred jokingly greeted as he turned to the Weasley's clock to search for the hour. "Yes, indeed. 8:20am" he raised his cup of coffee towards Harry who lazily returned the salutation with a simple nod._

"_Harry! Dear! There you are!" an excited Molly called from the entrance to the kitchen. She was still on her sleeping dress and her short, red hair tied up into half ponytail. "I'll make breakfast for you, darling. You go and get dress. Hermione should be here in no time." Harry nodded politely after he finished drinking the water he had served him before Molly entered the kitchen. "Oh, and please, Harry, do wake Ronald up, would you?_

"_And you leave those breads alone, Fred Weasley!" she said snapping Fred's hand before he got a chance of actually grabbing one fresh-just-baked-bread. _

_Harry smiled to himself before he exited the kitchen where Molly had already started cooking bacon sandwiches, Ron's favourite._

_As Harry started his way up towards Ron's bedroom-one which he shared with himself whenever he visited- he stopped still for a brief second to contemplate his surroundings._

_The Burrow was tall building, with 6 floors including the attic, but was not very big when talking about space. Most people would describe it as a messy place seeing that everything was clustered together and there was little space to walk through, but to Harry that only gave him a welcoming feeling. It was as if that little space to walk around made the family itself come together. It was cosy and nice and Harry had definitely decided it was better than being around the Dursleys. _

_With a tiny smile, Harry climbed up the stairs two floors more, arriving to Ron's room. It wasn't a surprise to find Ron deeply asleep, snoring loudly as he usually did. It didn't bother him, though, he had eventually gotten used to his constant snoring; he did wonder, however, how in heaven will Hermione ever survive it.  
He knew, obviously, about the undying crush of Hermione for the hard-headed lazy bum he called his best friend. For a moment, he imagined a very irritated Hermione snapping, throwing any number of pillows she could find at the snoring ginger, which wouldn't be enough to wake him up…but still, the image seemed quite entertaining to Harry._

_Even so, he still felt a bit odd about that crush. He knew the way he felt for Hermione did not go beyond a mere friendship-a very strong one, though-but still just a friendship, sometimes he even considered her to be the sister he never got to have. And yet, his stomach crumbled up into a tight knot whenever he noticed Hermione blush because of a stare Ron had given her. A feeling very similar to that of being jealous, which he was sure he wasn't for he had no feelings for Hermione whatsoever but it still felt odd. Somehow._

_Harry shook his head as the knot in his stomach came again. "__**I'm probably just hungry," **__he convincingly told himself before walking towards the small bathroom. _

_The small cubiculum was, as much of the house, clustered. It was hard to find a place where Harry would stand without the feeling of being smashed between the two perfectly blue-painted walls. It wasn't disgustingly looking for Molly made sure Ron cleaned his own bathroom every now and then, but it still was very small. So small only a little sink, a toilet and the shower back far into a corner fitted in.  
It was fine for a bathroom that was rarely used, really. Ron eventually spent most of his days at Hogwarts and Harry only visited for the holidays, so there was not a big use to it. _

_He started undressing, careful not to hit his elbow with the wall that was much too close to him for his own comfort. It was inevitable when his foot came in contact with the toilet sit, which caused him to react in the form of a funny looking dance. Not very comfortable seeing that he was completely nude. _

_Ignoring the pain that still lingered on the little finger of his left foot, he entered the hot shower. For a minute he let himself sink into a complete peacefulness, allowing the smoothing hot water to cover him entirely. The racing droplets that fell down his neck into his back felt like a pair of petal roses falling from the hands of a fairy goddess; the most beautiful of them all… Ginny. _

_A splash of visions covered his mind, revealing a series of moments shed with Hermione, his best girl friend. His sleepy eyes opened up slowly. Why think of Hermione? Was Ginny not his fairy goddess? Hunger again. _

_Harry shook his wet hair, once, and twice before he finally went on to cover his jet-black hair with shampoo, massaging slowly his scalp then covering it with water. Clean hair. Body was next._

_The soupy substance danced around his body, eroding a bayberry scent that covered him head to toe, how he loved the bayberry-scented soup. It was the most relaxing thing he had ever experienced yet. _

"_Ronald Billius Weasley!" he heard from afar distance. He knew the calling voice but decided to ignore it, the voice was not even calling him anyw- "Harry James Potter!"_

_Holy shit! He knew that voice perfectly now._

_Harry snapped from his relaxing and wonderful shower and quickly took the towel he had placed carefully over the toilet sit. Once he had it wrapped it securely around his waist, he exited the bathroom almost falling on his way to open the bedroom door. _

_The door opened in a flash, making the old wood crack loudly, to reveal Hermione Granger. _

"_Harry!" she greeted happily, quickly approaching to wrap her excited arms around her best friend "Gosh, it's so good to see you!" Harry's arms came to wrap around Hermione's waist, everything turning into a merely friendly hug. Or was it?_

_They kept hugging for a very little time, but seemed like a lifetime to Harry. What had only taken a minute had lasted long enough for Harry to age, according to his own perception of time, of course.  
It took a little bit longer than a minute for Hermione to notice Harry had his back entirely nude and slightly damp, as if he had just gotten out of somewhere wet. Was it sweat maybe? He could be, after all, be having another nightmare as he usually did. He always woke up sweaty and jumpy, she remembered. Her theory was quickly crossed out as she noticed he was quite relaxed, and smelled of bayberries, if she knew him any better she would be able to read the boy's mind. He had just taken a bath. _

_Hermione's cheeks began to heat up, brightening with a rosy colour that, through Harry's eyes, fitted her perfectly. It was the colour that resembled her sweet, caring personality. _

_Hermione unwrapped her arms off Harry and stepped back, carefully avoiding looking into Potter's emerald eyes. It did ashamed her to had just hugged her best friend when he found himself entirely nude, she had noticed the towel-which made it a little bit less embarrassing-but it still made her heart race and her cheeks to burn furiously. _

"_Uhm…Harry, you should put some clothes on" she said putting the strands of hair that had fallen to her face behind her ear, her brown eyes still staring at the wooden floor. Harry's trance was broken off, and the only sound he could emit was a very awkward giggle. _

"_Right. Clothes." He laughed again. Hermione joined along, making a beautiful sonnet of awkward laughs that filtered the room. The laughs seemed to go on and on since both felt equally embarrassed and seemed to be unable to move as well. Hermione was pink going to red, her laughs-even though awkward- filed Harry's ears and he was fascinated. He did not why, but her smile mixed the flustered face made something in his stomach jump up and down, very much close to butterflies. _

"_Sorry, you caught while I was showering." _

"_Yeah. I noticed!" her voice acquired a funny high-pitched tone, due to all the laughing and the discomfort of having his best friend still naked right in front of her. "I'll…go downstairs and help…" _

"_Yeah, I'll…get dressed and wake Ron up" his laugh was joined by Hermione's. Hermione smiled before turning his back on Harry, who Merlin knows how he managed to stay un-red, although he felt his whole face burning. _

**NOTICE: I am not going to focus on Hermione's feelings at all, because she's dead. Most of the following chapters are Harry dealing with a series of decisions accompanied by flashbacks of his moments with Hermione. The moments that are mentioned are a series of events that lead Harry to realise he is in love with Hermione. Not EVERY SINGLE MOMENT TOEGTHER S GOING TO BE MENTIONED. Just the important ones. Since these are Harry's flashbacks, Hermione's thoughts or feelings are not mentioned. **

**Reviews are always appreciated. Good or bad. **

**-AllieBe**


	3. The Sister of Jealousy

**A/N: I'm sorry it's this short, but that's as long as my imagination went in the Yule Ball regarding Harry's feelings for Hermione. **

* * *

Harry had finally let go of Hermione's body after minutes of mourning for her. He now rested against a wall far, far away from the crowd inside the Great Hall. The people that remained were plenty, but not just enough to fill the big room. To Harry, it looked grey, even empty, no matter how many people were actually there, he could only see shadows. Unknown faces taking over face he was sure he knew. Faces he thought he had grown up with, shared laughter with. But it all didn't matter anymore; because the one face he had taken strength from all those years was gone.

His eyes went from one place to another, stopped at Hermione's body, and back at the entrance. He repeated this sequence over and over again, until he finally made the decision of facing his own end. After all, what had he left to lose?

* * *

_It was late at night. The Yule Ball was to start in nearly 20 minutes approximately, and even though he had to come in first because he was part of the Triwizard Tournament-however unwillingly-he was still in the blues about the whole celebration._

_He liked his date, he had no complaints about that matter, and he was taking a friend after all. No commitment intended. But still, he had that kind of crappy feeling at being rejected by Cho Chang. He was not necessarily rejected; on the contrary he had been thankful that she hadn't blow him off rather rudely like many of the boys who had thought of asking one of the beauties of Beauxbatons, but he still felt bad. _

"_It's bloody hideous!" Ron said after looking at himself in the mirror for what seemed to be the 10__th__ time since he put on the robes his mother sent him. Harry couldn't help the smile that spread across his face._

"_It's not that bad. Could be worse." Harry said holding back the treacherous laugh that threatened to escape his throat. The truth was he _wanted _lo laugh, but he knew Ron would refuse to go, and he didn't feel like going alone. Moreover, he wouldn't even bother to go if he wasn't part of the tournament. Curse it. Damn be the one who placed _his _name in there, curse it, curse it, and curse it. Merlin knows he wouldn't be caught up in this mess if he wasn't the chosen one; the hell! He would have his parents right now, beside him. He would have grown up in a loving home, would have his friends over when holidays arrived, could use one of his father's advice when it came to girls (seeing as he clearly lacked the appeal), would eat the delicious dinner his mother would prepare, he could even watch TV with his parents in a normal Sunday afternoon when the day was too rainy to go out and have a picnic. All the things he could have done and was forcefully torn from. Curse it. _

"_I can't go like this, Harry. I look like a bloody clown." Ron said, eyeing his own self in the mirror, a clear, ghostly complexion covered his already rather pale skin. He looked sick, almost as if he was about to throw up. Harry patted his shoulder before turning to the stairs, in that moment Ron knew it was time to go. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat before slowly turning to follow Harry into the common room, where the Patil sisters were probably already waiting to be taken to the ball. Neither of the boys had intentionally planned to invite them, truthfully Ron had wanted to go with Fleur Delacour. Not that she would ever accept his proposal, but the ginger boy had had high hopes. Just as Harry when he invited Cho. _

_When the boys reached downstairs the Patil sisters were indeed waiting to be escorted to the Yule Ball. While the Patil sisters were somewhat excited (one more than the other, for Parvati was going with the hero-Harry-and Padma with Ron, which didn't precisely excite her) Harry and Ron were doubtful, for different reasons. But still, doubtful. Ron was ashamed of his robes and did not want to go with Padma, he did not even feel like going for all he found glorious, but he knew he owned Harry for the fight he caused when Harry was called out by Dumbledore and chosen by the Goblet of Fire even when he was not even of age to assist to that kind of events. The fight was all driven by the jealousy Ron felt towards the situations that made Harry a hero, the exception to the rule. Always. He was still his best friend, though. And a best friend's got to do what a best friend's got to do.  
_

_They arrived at the Great Hall just in time for the entrance, maybe even a few minutes before the big entrance. Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor were already there, Harry being the last one to arrive. Everybody seemed to have brought an actual date, not a-one-minute date like Harry did; a proper date. _

_Upon arriving and being told by a rather frantic McGonagall the steps he had to take before entering the Great Hall, Harry's eyes landed upon Cho Chang, so graceful laughing with her date, Cedric Diggory. _

"_She's beautiful" he heard Parvati exclaim, to which he could only mumble a very soft answer thinking she talked about Cho. However when he turned to see if Parvati had heard him at all, he noticed that her eyesight was not precisely on Cho Chang, but on the staircase. The admiration and disbelief in Parvati's eyes caused Harry's attention to turn towards a girl. Harry's eyes grew wide with surprise when he saw Hermione coming down with the elegance of a swan, one he had never quite imagined on her. She looked gorgeous from head to toe, as never before. He had already come to terms with the fact that his friend was a rather attractive woman who had really bloomed since her young years, but never had he thought of her as a breath-taking, beautiful creature. She wore the perfect pink dress, long and ostentatious. Fitted her just blamelessly. Her long, normally wide mess of curls were perfectly tamed into a girly bum; her makeup was gentle and accentuated her beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks. _

_Something in the pit of Harry's stomach started to burn, letting way into a rush of butterflies. He kept staring like a foolish, enamoured teenager until Viktor appeared on the scene. He greeted Hermione with a graceful caravan before grabbing Hermione's hand and kissing it softly. Hermione smiled eagerly towards Harry's direction, but all Harry felt at that time was something quite so very close to anger. How on earth did Hermione look so good for such a dumbass as Viktor? _

_Wait a second…what as he even _thinking_ that? It was none of his business if she was now dating the Russian hunk…or, of course it was his business! He was her freaking best friend, whoever she dated obviously was his business, and he had all the goddamn right to barge in and investigate. Clearly, he was right. Tch, Viktor Krum was not getting Hermione's heart if Harry could help it. Not that he wanted her heart, though. Right? "__**Get a hold, Potter!" **__said a little voice inside his head. This caused him to return back to the constant yet poor attempts of McGonagall to call his attention. His big, emerald orbs rested on McGonagall._

"_Mr. Potter, do walk. Hurry, hurry. We're already running late." _

_Harry was overwhelmed the instant the big doors opened to the four champions of the tournament, himself included of course. The three elder champions entered the room with gracious and cheerful steps, followed suit by their parents that seemed to have the very same joyful energy their dates carried. Harry, however, entered the room rather awkwardly. Parvati smiled and greeted, as though she was a celebrity being admired by a bunch of screaming fans and ecstatic paparazzi, she seemed like she was enjoying herself, dating the Chosen one and everything. Not the same could be said about his actual date, who showed a straight off inability to dance as elegantly as his competitors, accidentally stomping over his date's foot and trying to keep up with the rhythm. Poor attempt, but still counted._

"_He's the enemy." Ron said, hawking at Viktor and Hermione as they danced around in the agitated crowd. Harry turned his eyesight towards them, and though he didn't show it, it bothered him too, the way Viktor touched her-even if it was an ever-so-lightly rose of arms between them-made him sick, the way she would laugh at whatever he would say with his silly Russian-_stupid Russian-_accent made him burn in rage. His face showed no record of this, instead he looked rather confused and tired. Ron noticed._

"_Are you ok, mate? You look a bit off." Harry turned his lazy eyes in Ron's direction, and then shifted them towards the floor. Was he ok? Had he known any better, he was sure he felt jealous of Viktor. But how _could _he be jealous? It seemed ridiculous. He wasn't as daft as to not know that jealousy meant he had some sort of feeling towards her. He had actually felt something-it was _definitely_ something-before whenever she shyly smiled at him, or laughed with him, or hugged him. Maybe even kiss him-in a total brother-sisterly way-but it still made him feel week-kneed. He knew it didn't make any sense; it didn't come close to logic reasoning. He knew it was either to like her as something more than just a mere friend, or to like her as just a sister-seeing as he never got to have one. Following the logic of his train thought, he could be jealous because he cared that much about her-as a sister-and big brothers were always jealous right? Not that he knew, but he's seen big brothers being all protective over their younger sisters, so maybe the problem of his jealousy relied on Hermione's best interest, actually. However, that did not explain the wobbly feeling that left his heart and agitated his head whenever he got into any kind of physical contact with her. _

_Merlin's beard! Just what the hell was wrong with him?_

* * *

**A/N: hoped you enjoyed even if it was a bit too short (again: SORRY!)**_  
_


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